Someone moved to light a cigarette, drawing a barrage of panicked shouts.
By the time I ran home 10 minutes later, our narrow west end street was crowded with fire trucks and police cars, with the clamour of sirens and vehicles converging at our address. My heart dropped. Neighbouring homes were already evacuated, with the block’s residents gathering to watch the commotion from a distance. Someone moved to light a cigarette, drawing a barrage of panicked shouts. The culprit? Our landscaper’s shovel hit
